Author: Pescador del Valle
Title: XXX-Men 02 : "Perra"
Part: Chapter 1
Universe: PdV's XXX-Men
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Summary: If mutations granting super-powers became
evident at puberty you're going to try to tell me the
"lucky" people wouldn't behave exactly like every other
teenager out there?
Keywords: MMMf-nc, Mf, oral, best, first, rom.
Language: English
Copyright: 2004
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* WARNING! *
* This text file contains sexually explicit *
* material. If you do not wish to read this *
* type of literature, or you are under age, *
* PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!! *
*********************************************
Comments appreciated :
see Pescador del Valle on www.asstr.org/authors.html
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Teenagers!
Perra's mother no longer understood what motivated her
daughter. They just didn't seem to speak the same
language any more.
Skula, regal matriarch and ultra-sensitive to societal
mores, did not like the young man her daughter was
showing such an interest in. He had been working for the
Lukos family for a couple of years now and Skula was
adamant her daughter was NOT going to get involved with
the "help".
It just wasn't done!
---
Perra of course saw things differently.
Where the older generation and, indeed to be completely
honest, her siblings saw the world only in terms of black
and white, Perra had found an inexpressible joy in a
world filled with colour - warm reds and oranges; cool
relaxing blues and greens; vibrant hues in an apparently
infinite range of shades.
It was Damien who provided this refreshing access to the
world outside the stifling confines of her home.
Actually he was the ONLY access she had.
In fact it was not an exaggeration to say that, without
his influence, she would not be the person she was.
---
Damien had been employed to care for the animals in a
private zoo, an expensive foible of an eccentric
businessman who could afford the macho thrill of being
able to tell of his collection of carnivores. Damien had
yet to see him do more than occasionally walk past or
over the enclosures with a few others in tow.
He didn't know how his boss had managed to get some of
the rarer specimens - virtually all carnivores were
threatened if not actually endangered - and he certainly
had assembled a divers collection.
Damien's favourites were the canine types - the coyotes,
wolves, dingoes, jackals and foxes (though he could take
or leave the hyenas) and some of the ursine specimens -
bears from Canada, Russia, China and Indo-china.
He had mixed feelings about the assortment of felines -
he had never been a cat person and the beauty of their
smooth powerful musculature couldn't make up for their
tendency to snarl whenever he went near.
He was professional enough not to let that affect the
treatment he afforded the tigers, lynxes, leopards,
cougars, cheetahs, jaguars and slightly moth-eaten lions.
BUT ... he didn't talk to them, he didn't make friends
with any of them, they didn't respond eagerly when he
came round unless it was feeding time.
It was the way that he treated the animals that attracted
Perra (she didn't care much for the cats either - their
enclosures stunk!). Or more to the point the fact that
he spoke to her with the same easygoing friendliness that
no-one else ever used.
The other servants on the estate would barely acknowledge
her. Perra thought they were too afraid of her parents
to get close enough to make friends; she couldn't blame
them - she was afraid of them as well, or rather of the
way they always seemed to find fault with her lately.
Whenever she could join him Perra listened carefully as
Damien explained what he was doing. He probably
shouldn't have encouraged her but she was eager to be
with him and, making sure his boss never found out, he
didn't mind her wandering around helping him.
It should have occurred to him that she was forming an
attachment to him - he was the only person she really
spent time with after all. He certainly didn't think of
the consequences if it should continue, nor if, as was
inevitable, they were discovered together.
---
Perra was inconsolable. Damien hadn't been sacked,
instead he had been given an opportunity to resign. Oh,
he got adequate severance pay and even more than adequate
references under the circumstances but his wishes, and
Perra's, were not considered.
He was gone! The presence she had known all her life,
her mentor, her only friend - Gone!
All her life? A couple of years? Not unreasonable since
a wolf grows much faster than a human.
But Perra wasn't just a wolf.
The mutations that were affecting humans had not left the
rest of the animal kingdom untouched though the
differences in brain structure meant the effects were
less significant - generally.
Perra wasn't the only animal to become more intelligent
but that wasn't enough in most cases. For many, the
distraction of higher thought processes tended to cause
them either to make dangerous forays or to pause when
they should be taking evasive action. It was a case of
curiosity killing the smart cat and the early bird
catching the contemplative worm.
A child needs their language centres stimulated in the
right way at the right time if they are to develop the
ability to use speech. No matter how intelligent the
animal, if it is surrounded only by literally dumb
companions it will never reach that extra level.
Perra fortunately had a talkative Damien around
throughout that time and could eventually clearly
understand him; she tried her hardest to answer with a
throat not designed for the subtleties of human speech.
The attempt, though unsuccessful and misinterpreted by
the keeper, built the appropriate - and necessary -
neural pathways.
It messed up her relationships with the other wolves
though. Perra could still converse with them, messages
even more complex in their own special way, but when she
tried to use human concepts she only confused them; a
confusion that turned to the special hostility reserved
for one who betrayed their heritage.
Perra didn't know why Damien had been replaced. She
simply knew that his duties were being performed by
someone else - someone who would not acknowledge her let
alone release her so she could keep him company as he
worked.
Perra found herself restricted to the area by the gate of
the wolf enclosure - a sculptured sunken area the size of
several large suburban house blocks with aerial walkways
and viewing platforms. She was isolated from her friend
on one side of the fence and targeted by her former pack
on the other.
At least in the narrow walkway she could limit any
hostile attacks to a face-to-face confrontation with one
wolf at a time.
It couldn't last though. She would HAVE to leave her
shelter to get food or water, or even just to escape the
stench of her excrement. They however could take turns
watching for a momentary advantage.
Escape! If only. She would be able to search for
Damien.
Perra had watched how he opened the gate. She knew she
would be able to do it if only she had hands instead of
paws. Perhaps she could still manage it. She was
irrationally optimistic without ever having seen an
episode of Lassie. At least she would be no worse off if
she failed.
There were ominous noises from out in the compound.
Perhaps she WOULD be worse off. She turned back to the
gate in desperation.
The catch was easy enough to reach through the narrow
armhole but Perra couldn't quite seize the knob to turn
it. The noises became more noticeable - they were
understandable at a gut level even though she had never
heard them expressed before. They meant trouble.
Perra tried again with increasing desperation. If she
didn't get it this time she would have to turn before
they came upon her. The attack would be vicious; there
would be no acceptance of an exposed belly designating
complete surrender - she was now prey.
Her paw was turning the knob; Perra leaned against the
gate so her weight would swing it open as soon as the
catch was released; she couldn't risk it slipping shut
again - there wouldn't be another attempt.
The mesh fell away from her and she collapsed onto the
path as the spring closure swung the gate shut again,
just as her brother crashed snarling into it.
He was confused. He could smell Perra. He could smell
the fear scent that had driven him to attack. But the
person lying on the concrete was hairless. It was one of
THEM regardless of the strong impression of his hated
sister.
His tail swept angrily as he turned away. He might not
have been "privileged" to have had his intelligence
increased like his sister but he knew he would not be
able to get through the gate. Regardless of where his
sister WAS, he knew she wasn't HERE, and that was good
enough for now. If she returned they would have their
reckoning then; she was no longer part of the pack.
---
Perra shivered, unaccustomedly cool as she lay on her
side. She turned her head to nip her shoulder where she
felt the biting insect and realised with a shock that she
couldn't reach it and that her normal warm coat of fur
was missing.
She stood up; that didn't feel right either, her paws
were strange, human appendages on the end of human limbs.
It meant her normal four-footed stance left her bare
tailless buttocks poised high above her. Her buttocks
were different too, far more muscular, designed for an
upright stance rather than for quadruped travel.
Perra stood on her hind legs. "No", she thought, "my
ONLY legs!"
She looked at her forepaws, the long delicate fingers
were a contrast to the normal toes; the fine nails far
less useful than her robust claws. But at least she had
the opposable thumbs that had allowed her to open the
latch when she had needed it.
She had to hold onto the fence to steady herself. She
wasn't used to standing this way.
"Oh! What's happened to me?"
Her voice was eerily distorted to her ears. She had said
the words; she could understand her own speech though she
doubted others would have been able to. Perra had the
physical means to make the right noises and a mind that
could send the right signals but she hadn't the practise
to make them come out clearly - yet.
Perra realised the question that was most important was
not what HAD happened but what WOULD happen to her.
---
After easily opening the remaining gates Perra had
carefully headed out of the enclosures, keeping to the
shadows. She knew the way to what had been Damien's
quarters, having travelled that far on her penultimate
excursion with him; she held out no hope that he would be
there. It had been too long.
Her damned nose wasn't working properly though and her
hearing was far less sensitive. She made up for the loss
by being extra careful as she snuck along.
The new keeper was out. Provided the animals had been
fed, watered and mucked out there was no reason for him
not to have his evenings free.
Perra knew she would have to wear the coverings the other
humans wore; without her fur she would freeze, perhaps
not literally though she did have goose bumps already,
and she was sure they would take more notice of her if
she was naked.
With the small house located inside one of the most
secure estates in the country, there was little by way of
additional measures to stop intruders gaining access to
Damien's former quarters. Had the new keeper bothered to
turn on his alarm system Perra's entry would have been
noticed but since he was only visiting with some of the
other resident staff he hadn't bothered.
The cupboards and drawers were not dissimilar to the bins
Perra had observed Damien opening. The outer clothing
was recognisable but she had never seen Damien in other
than his white overalls and what she found stowed away
made little sense. She searched through the house
looking for something she could understand and finally
found it in a pile of laundry returned to the house but
not yet put away.
It took some time, and a few tears of frustration, and
even a curse that Damien would have been embarrassed
about had he known that he had taught it to her.
Finally all her limbs were in the appropriate holes and
she had managed to close the front. It was fortunate the
buttons and press studs had been replaced with Velcro
else she would have displayed a most unusual plunging
neckline.
In almost every way Perra would pass for a human female
in her mid to late teens. True, her short hair and eyes
were both unusual colours, and there was just a hint of a
hairy tuft behind the merest point at the top of each ear
but the first just enhanced her mysterious beauty and the
second could easily be overlooked.
But ... whereas any other young lady might be expected to
have prominent mounds across her chest, Perra had eight -
all double A, maybe less; though she certainly had no
knowledge of breast sizes, she WAS aware that the lumps
were more prominent in her new form. Under the baggy
overalls the repeated ripples were disguised; Perra could
even pass for a male worker if her face was hidden.
Certainly no-one would associate her with a missing she-
wolf.
Footwear was more of a problem. Firstly there was
nothing small enough for her feet and secondly she had no
experience of laces or buckles.
What she did recognise were the black rubber Wellingtons,
filth encrusted from the day's earlier cleanup. They
would flop around making bipedal movement more difficult
for the novice but they would at least protect the soft
pads - No, soles - of her feet.
Perra left the house to try and find Damien.
---
The scent receptors in the human nose cover an
insignificant area when compared to those of a hunting
animal such as a bloodhound - or a wolf.
While Perra in human form suffered a drastic loss of
ability compared to her lupine state, she still could
sense far smaller traces than others born to that shape.
It took a while for her to appreciate what she still had
rather than regretting her losses but eventually she came
across a significant scent of her beloved Damien.
She had been quartering the estate, being missed on three
occasions by complacent security staff more interested in
the absence of "visitors", welcome or not, outside the
grounds than in differentiating between those already
inside the gates. Had the senior staff been present
matters may have turned out differently.
Damien had been given transport away from the estate,
leaving from the servant's entrance of course. Traces of
his scent, mingled with a mixture from each of those who
had said goodbye, could be found by the drive.
It took a while for Perra to recognise the metallic-
rubber-hydrocarbon mix as one of the vehicles people
sometimes travelled in. She couldn't scent Damien but
the automobile's spoor was much stronger.
Perra followed it down the drive.
Guarded areas tend to be designed with their strengths
concentrated in one direction; you are either stopping
people from getting in or from leaving. The estate was
no different.
At the time all eyes were focussed outwards so Perra was
at, and over, the gate before her presence really
registered. With no sign of a problem the guards delayed
their decision whether to raise an alarm until they were
then likely to be criticised for NOT raising it.
Perra was just following the road down the hillside
without attempting to be furtive so the two guards
finally decided that their bosses wouldn't want to be
disturbed for what was obviously nothing.
"Unless it's logged it didn't happen", suggested one.
His co-worker agreed. It hadn't happened!
---
The recent weather had been fortunate; the scent of the
car was traceable to the bottom of the private road but
then things got confusing. Still it was obvious that the
conglomeration of lights was the likely destination.
Perra was still naive enough not to realise the world
consisted of more than the estate and the lights; had she
realised that Damien could be in some other place, or
even how big the "lights" were, she may have just curled
up by the side of the road.
It was late and a weeknight and the road she followed
passed through quiet residential suburbs where most
people were fast asleep.
Perra travelled at a ground-covering lope, neither
walking nor running, fit enough that the exercise had not
begun to tire her. Her stride incorporated a bouncing
motion, discovered to be the best compromise with the
heavy pendulum-like boots; their inertia dragged her
forward once she had a rhythm established rather than her
having to lift them step by solid step.
As she went she lifted her puny nose to sniff the air.
"Not even a decent muzzle and such pathetic fangs", she
thought, running her tongue over the blunt enamel. "How
can humans spread their jaws wide enough to rip out a
decent chunk of flesh?"
There was no trace of the one she sought.
Perra wandered through the chill night. She was happy
she had thought to replace her fur with the human
clothing; it wasn't sufficient but it was better than
nothing would have been.
She found the variety of colours in the lighting nothing
short of amazing. The enclosure had been left "au
natural" except for tiny night lights along the sides of
the paths. On the few occasions Perry could remember
them being used their blue-violet glow could barely be
seen by the animals below.
Now there was a plethora of multi-coloured neon signs
around her, in or over shop windows; there were rows of
orange sodium lights and the bright white mercury vapour
lamps at the intersections. There were poles and
suspended lights that changed colours in a perplexing yet
regular manner. For a night "person" there was still
plenty to see and Perra kept her head moving from side to
side no different from any other tourist who didn't want
to miss a thing.
Perra continued to follow the main road though she got no
further clues to Damien's whereabouts. Quartering the
estate had borne fruit so she was willing to try a
similar technique without realising the far larger area
and the greater number of confusing scents would make it
a far more difficult problem for her weaker senses.
The suburbs eventually changed to the inner city and now
she started seeing more people about. None of them were
her Damien. Traffic flow increased as well and Perra
found herself forced over to the sidewalks in imitation
to the other humans.
While that kept her away from the dangerous metal
carriages it brought her much closer to another danger
that she did not have experience enough to comprehend
until it was almost too late.
"Hey babe. Watcha doon out sa late? Lookin' fra part-
ee?"
There were three men standing around next to one of the
parked cars. She had trouble making sense of both their
accents and their words; Damien did not speak like that.
They might know where to find him though.
"Damien. Find Damien."
Her speech was clearer than theirs in many respects but
the slowness and limited wordage suggested that she was
slightly retarded. Still she was certainly something to
look at, regardless of her unusual costume, and the trio
figured she might provide a little late night recreation.
"Damien? He's a good friend of ours. Ya want us to take
ya t'him? Hop in." The speaker opened the door.
Perra thought a moment before climbing in. She
understood their speech better than their intent and it
was only when the three men climbed in, one in the front
and the other two on either side of her, that she noticed
the stink of their sexual anticipation.
Damien had never responded to her interests, if his sense
of smell was as poor as hers seemed to be she did not
wonder that he would have missed the aromatic cues. She
didn't seem to go into heat quite like the rest of her
ex-pack. She emitted the pheromones when oestrus was on
her but unlike them she could resist the mating urges;
contrarily she could have the urges, albeit nowhere near
as strong, at other times when her female relatives would
have rejected any advances - not that the males would
have been interested then.
These males seemed different. Though SHE knew she wasn't
fertile they were responding as though she was. They had
taken no action to establish their interest, yet, but
their eyes showed they were well aware of her.
"Where you come from?" The man on her left who had not
spoken yet asked a question that he didn't really care
she answered; it might be nice to know if the young woman
was likely to be missed if they decided to keep her for a
while but they could find out more later. He would also
have liked to have started exploring on the way but knew
it would be easier to get her out of the car if she
wasn't waking up half the neighbourhood. They could
afford a short wait.
"Home." Perra didn't really have another name for it.
Once again the men interpreted this as being some
institution. Perhaps she worked in the garden and had
wandered off. If so she had probably been missing for
several hours now. That she was wandering around the
streets in the early hours of the morning did not suggest
she was sensible enough to ask for help. The situation
looked all the better for them.
Al turned into the driveway next to a rundown house in an
older suburb, an area poorly maintained in comparison to
the leafier avenues she had passed earlier in the
evening.
Gabe, the one who had originally opened the door for her,
got out and offered her his hand. When she was hesitant,
more from a misunderstanding of the gesture, he took her
arm, not unduly roughly but with an insistence she found
disturbing.
Nick pushed her from behind, ready to cover her mouth if
she tried to scream. That was a response she was not
familiar with; a snarl would have been more likely.
"Damien is inside." Gabe tried to allay any suspicions
while Al hurried to open the door. Perra got out and was
"escorted" inside where she was "offered" a seat on the
lounge between Gabe and Nick.
"Damien is out right now but we told him you were here.
He said to wait for him and that we should have a little
party together. 'Kay?"
"Here yago." Al pushed a glass towards her. Her senses
found the smell of the harsh spirit acrid and she turned
away refusing it.
"Where IS Damien?" she wondered.
"Not thirsty? Perhaps ya like to do other things with
good ol' Damien? Howsbout we make ya a bit more comfy?"
Gabe was holding one arm while Nick held the other. Al
put down the glass and started to undo the seal that held
the front of Perra's overalls in place.
"Well now I've gotta say this here is one of the best
outfits I've seen. It just peels apart and yaint got
nuthin underneath." He pulled the sides of the material
apart.
Since Perra felt no shame about her body nor experience
of human behaviour in such situations his action, in
itself, caused her no distress and she let him expose her
breasts.
"Oh what fine titties ya got girl. They is just so tiny
- they is itty bitty titties! I think ya really should
have ya drink now."
He put it to her lips, pressing his finger into her
cheek, painfully separating her teeth so she would have
to open enough for him to pour the whiskey between her
lips. The taste made her gasp which only allowed him to
pour in more which she was compelled to swallow.
It burned her throat going down and the odours burned
inside her nostrils. She ended up swallowing the major
part of a not insubstantial glass.
"Now ya just had to spill some dincha? I spose I better
help clean ya up."
Al knelt before Perra and leaned towards her. The
whiskey had flowed down her chin and Al licked the still-
wet trail over her neck and down to one of the petite
breasts.
She struggled at the unwelcome contact but was held firm
on either side. Gabe took advantage of the bare breast
beside him and began to rub his finger and thumb around
the nipple. It hardened to his touch, a sign that
promised an interesting night even if the unknown girl
proved less than co-operative. SHE might not want to
party but it looked like her body might not put up as
much resistance; he much rather would work on a wet pussy
than a dry one and he knew she would end up preferring
that as well if she got to experience both.
Nick, without a breast of his own to play with, was
opening the rest of the overalls. He reached around
inside, not sure whether there was room to finger her
cunt but the garment SEEMED loose enough to allow at
least a little exploration. He found more than he
expected without ever getting anywhere near his
objective.
"What the fuck?!"
The abrupt delivery of his exclamation brought a halt to
the other's activities.
"What?"
"Have a look what I have found."
The three men took a serious look at the third breast and
then the fourth, fifth, and sixth.
"How many fuck'n tits does she have anyway?"
"Let's see shall we? Clear the table."
Al hurried to obey Gabe and the other two walked Perra to
the kitchen where she was stood facing the table. Al
stood behind and slipped the overalls off of her
shoulders, each man releasing his grip just long enough
for the sleeves to be removed one at a time from her pale
limbs.
Al produced a set of handcuffs and they secured her
wrists behind her. With the garment around her knees she
was turned again and lifted onto the table where her back
was forced against the cold and gritty surface. Al
barely paused to glance at the silky smooth pubic hair
before pulling off her boots and discarding her only
garment.
"Will ya look at this! Eight tittles all like the
first."
"She must be Snow White!" laughed Gabe. "Pale as all
hell and enough tits so each of the little guys got one
each!"
Al laughed, ignoring the fact that this still left one
for Prince Charming when he turned up. "Well there
certainly are enough to go around here. Dig in."
The three men each bent over, taking one breast in each
hand and pressing their mouths over a pointy nipple.
There seemed barely enough flesh to hold onto!
Gabe, and then Nick when he saw what his friend had done,
moved the hand that was holding the breast he was sucking
on over to a breast that was free and began to work on
three breasts simultaneously.
Al, at the end of the table, missed out but found the
girl's pussy was fresh enough to explore as well. He
used his chest and elbows to spread her thighs and
trapped her knees in his armpits so he could continue to
play with her lowermost pair of breasts while he lapped
at her cunt juices.
The flavour was strong but not offensive and her
struggles to get away from the three only spurred them
on. The fact that she hadn't called for help made them
more convinced that she was some dummy who didn't have
enough sense to keep out of dangerous situations.
Perra had never been in a situation where such a call had
been necessary. Her food had been past needing to call
out and wouldn't have used those words. The call of one
of the pack if trapped would have been more a warning to
it's pack-mates to avoid the danger rather than a request
for assistance; the pack itself would have treated a call
for help only as a sign that the time had come for that
member of the pack to die.
And then the elusive Damien. His only use of the word
had been a loving "Are you ready to help me again girl?";
not a sentence that had any relationship to her current
position.
Despite her anger at being confined and her annoyance
that the three men had not taken her to her Damien, Perra
was not afraid. She did not have the social upbringing
that warned of stranger danger and rape; violence was a
necessary way of life without being what would have been
described as "needless".
Wolves lived with a "needed violence" when required and
at other times were just as loving to their pack as any
well-adjusted human family would have been. They could
thrill to the hunt but, when the chase was finished,
their prey was despatched as humanely (lupinely?) as
possible. The provision of already despatched prey as
food could not change untold generations of wolfish
behaviour.
Though she continued to struggle, Perra's body was not
strong enough to resist the attentions of three muscular
men. Her own musculature would have made many a female
athlete envious but it was built for speed and endurance,
not for lifting or punching. Had she known some martial
art it might have sufficed but her real defensive power
lay in the jaw muscles she no longer possessed.
She couldn't help feel the pleasurable sensations that
they were causing though. Had she been frightened of
what was happening things might have been different but
now she just wanted the pleasure to stop. They were NOT
Damien and, though the position she was in was most
unnatural, the situation was no different than when her
former pack had been sniffing around before they had
decided she was too different to be Pack any more.
The men finally decided that they had done enough to get
her ready, after all they hadn't picked her up for HER
entertainment. They weren't particularly brutal people,
unless they had to be, and so far her relatively
compliant behaviour had meant the rape had proceeded with
remarkable civility.
They had their own pecking order so there was no
objection when Al stood between Perra's legs and dropped
his pants. Gabe similarly dragged his not unsubstantial
erection through his fly and turned Perra's head towards
it.
"Now ya be a good girl 'n' things will be all-l-l right.
"Ya understand?"
Gabe took the movement of Perra's head to be acquisition.
Perhaps this Damien guy had given her a bit of pork
sausage himself from time to time and she was used to
partying. He pushed his prick against her lips and with
just the barest pause Perra opened to let him in.
Perra's taste buds were more sensitive than a human's
though still not quite what she was used to. Fortunately
her brain still had a wolf's sensibilities as to what was
nice and what was nasty. A prick that has been sitting
inside a pair of sweaty jocks for several hours isn't
quite as offensive when you are used to tearing steaming
entrails open to get at a hot bloody liver.
She wasn't at all sure of WHY he had put his prick there.
Damien certainly hadn't done anything similar though she
had groomed some of the other wolves and had licked their
fur-covered sheaths and occasionally the spike-like
extension that had poked forth as a result of her
attentions. The fact it had included her father and
brothers as well as the other members of the pack was not
important; wolves didn't view things in quite the same
way.
The actions of the three men, even Al's cunnilingus, were
near enough to past grooming experiences that Perra
hadn't found it disturbing. What Al was doing now WAS!
She automatically tried to turn her head but Gabe pressed
his palm against her ear and began to move his organ in
and out instead and her muffled attempts at protest meant
the previously insipid blow job began to feel more
pleasant.
Al had wiped the head of his prick through Perra's juices
and had then slid the length of his erection over the
surface of her pussy in an attempt to make her eager for
the fucking he was about to give her. Her hips became
more agitated as she realised his intention and a smile
grew on his face - if she kept that up he was going to
have a good time; there was nothing worse than some bitch
who just lay there!
Al didn't know just how much of a bitch was laying there.
A bitch who didn't scream and scratch and cry. But
rather a bitch who had had to stand up against those who
had been closest to her and who had an ingrained instinct
to fight for herself in one way.
Gabe had no chance. Perra's teeth clamping down in
reflex to Al's thrust through her hymen might not have
caused him a serious injury (seriousness in this case
being, like beauty, very much a personal appraisal) but
she still had some of the former length in her canines
and the puncturing wounds they caused were instinctively
followed by a seizure of the tender piece of meat between
scissor-like incisors and a twisting of her head that
even his heavy hand could not prevent.
Al looked up from the view of his own vanished prick to
the sound of Gabe's piercing scream. His friend
staggered back with blood flowing out of his trousers
like a stream of the reddest piss Al could imagine.
Nick's movement as he jumped back from the table caused
him to turn back away from the horrid image. He found an
even worse one.
Perra, her lips and chin smeared with the blood flowing
from Gabe's stump, was chewing and, as Al watched in
disbelief, she swallowed and then began chewing again.
They had thought her mentally disabled, now they wondered
what sort of homicidal maniac they had found.
Al's penis was shrivelling but before it had dropped out
of Perra's no longer virgin hole he felt it squeezed hard
as yet another horror occurred.
Perra was changing in front of his, and Nick's, eyes.
Gabe, collapsed on the floor, curled in a ball and still
screaming, missed the transformation from attractive
young woman to equally attractive young wolf.
For Perra it was not a pleasant experience. The
transformation was not painful, merely a little
discomfort akin to growing pains as limbs adjusted and to
indigestion as internal organs moved around. Her fore
legs however were trapped behind her in a position that
was barely okay for a human and excruciating for a
canine.
Al found that he was now holding the much thinner and
hairier hind legs of a wolf that was struggling to get
free of the handcuffs holding her imprisoned. He looked
down as he felt his penis pushed out of Perra's body. He
had been fucking a bloody animal!
He let Perra go and stepped back himself just as her paw
slipped through the circle of steel set to hold a human
wrist. She rolled over, bringing her front legs back
into a more normal position and lay there for a few
seconds as her shoulders screamed their own agony and
simultaneous relief.
Al was more worried about his reputation should his
bestial activities become known than about Gabe's injury.
If Gabe bled to death it would be one less witness though
it WOULD be preferable if he died when Al wasn't around.
At least it was Gabe's house. He looked over at Nick's
face where he was trying, barely successfully, not to
vomit.
"Kill her", he said softly. "You go one way and I'll go
the other. There's knives behind you and I'll get Gabe's
gun."
He slowly moved past Gabe.
What he didn't count on was Perra understanding EVERY
word of this conversation, well all but one; she wasn't
familiar with "gun" but taken in context it wasn't going
to be something nice.
Knives could cut; Perra had watched Damien preparing the
meat for those animals who couldn't take a whole goat or
sheep. "Knives" cut through the flesh even better than
her own teeth in some respects. "Kill her" was also
obvious and very personal. Perra ignored the ache in her
shoulder and launched herself off of the tabletop in a
fluid motion even as Nick grabbed the long and very sharp
carving knife.
It was impossible for Nick to hold the knife once Perra's
fangs tore the muscles of his forearm into something that
reminded him of diced steak and it clattered to the floor
as he added his screams to Gabe's. Perra left him and
turned to find the third rapist.
Al might have been okay if he had bothered to close the
door behind him. Only "might" since Perra in wolf form
probably had the strength to break it open without first
having to change back to turn the knob. He "might" have
had enough time to put more than one bullet into the
revolver and "might" have had time to aim properly - but
he didn't.
His shot wasn't far off but the bullet only passed
through Perra's fore leg as she jumped towards him and
then her teeth were in his throat while he uselessly
pulled the trigger over and over until his brain, starved
of the oxygen-filled blood pulsing from his carotids,
stopped telling his fingers to squeeze yet again.
He had fallen as she crashed into him and she tore the
front of his throat out, quite appropriately wolfing it
down. As the adrenalin rush passed the pain of the
bullet wound became obvious and she wobbled in reaction.
Perra turned away from Al's body and limped back to the
lounge and then the kitchen where the two other men lay,
their screams turned to whimpers.
Both looked pale amidst the rich red blood. Gabe had
just sat in shocked disbelief as his pants had become a
sodden mess. He had made no attempt to stop the flow and
now it was going to be too late unless a paramedic
arrived in the next minute or so.
Nick's pants were a sodden mess as well but only because
he had lost control of both bladder and bowels at the
infliction of a pain he had never previously experienced
in circumstances he could not accept. There were no such
things as werewolves!
He was right. But there was at least one were-human.
Being right didn't stop the arterial flow that spurted
far less energetically as shock shut down peripheral
blood flow to ensure an adequate supply to the more vital
parts of his body. That assumed that he had enough left
to BE an adequate supply; an incorrect assumption.
Nick watched the she-wolf standing beside him and waited
for her to attack again. Had she been a shark she would
have but Perra had no need to do any more. She didn't
particularly hate him, or the other two, she had simply
reacted to an attack against her. Had Al found some
other way to get his pleasure she may even have groomed
all three of them, blowing them until they came even
though that wasn't a wolf "tradition".
Perra simply turned and limped towards the door on three
legs. She looked at the latch and the change was far
easier this time.
On two legs it was easy to walk past the dying rapists to
don her only garment and boots. Then out the door and
off into the dark, once more keeping stealthily to the
shadows.
---
Monitoring their scanners, the press turned up with the
Police in response to some neighbour's call about the
blood-curdling screams that came from the only house that
had had its lights on at 3:30 in the morning. There were
a few more now that there were red and blue lights
flashing as well.
It might have been a poorer neighbourhood than that Perra
had first seen but that didn't mean the people who lived
there were any better or worse. Those who were of the
better sort welcomed the Police presence. The three new
corpses had lived there because they couldn't afford
better; had they been wealthier they would simply have
planned their rapes differently or perhaps made more use
of the city's hookers.
Even before the sun had risen, the radio and television
news reports were telling of the vicious murder. They
mentioned the dog bites but even the reporters who had
been told about the injuries "off the record" were not
able to talk about lost penises; even torn out throats
would have to wait for the late-night news, it wasn't
something to hear over one's breakfast.
Damien hadn't tuned in to the news but did have a job
interview that morning. With little time to search for
anything better when he didn't know how long his money
had to last, he had gotten a small room only three blocks
from where Perra had been taken. Despite their
proximity, he certainly had no knowledge of her captives.
There was still a large enough Police presence in the
morning to draw a crowd of onlookers as they headed off
to their jobs. Damien, heading past on foot, had paused
long enough to find out what had happened and then had to
sprint to catch his bus into the city.
---
Perra had found an abandoned building to hide out in
during the day. It had been less than twenty four hours
since her first transformation and she was still used to
a nocturnal existence even though her colour vision was
far less sensitive to the more subtle differences at
night than her relatives' monochromatic sight. Still you
don't miss that which you never had quite as much as the
things you know you have lost.
What she had lost, and was definitely missing, was her
Damien. During the day Perra had periodically licked at
her arm, keeping the small wounds clean. The bruised
muscle tissue was sore but there had very fortunately
been minimal damage. There had been little blood flow
once she had settled but she quite noticeably favoured it
once dusk descended.
She crept out of the building and stripped off in the
shadows of a nearby garden to empty her bladder and her
bowels. It was cool but she was smart enough to know
that leaving the garment on would NOT be a good idea.
Perra managed to dress again without being caught; it was
getting easier (with a single exception) to twist her
limbs to slide them down the sleeves and pants legs. She
started out on her quest again. One direction seemed as
good as another and she continued away from the scene of
her imprisonment.
The basically rectangular city blocks helped make her
search more systematic as she walked down one side of
several and then walked around the end of the block to
come back on the opposite side. She combined the
inherent sense of direction and ability to smell her own
trail from her wolf ancestry with the ability to
conceptualise the geometrical design of the landscapes
she was experiencing and the numerical skills to count
her progress. She covered five blocks then came back
down the next five, zigzagging between the two major
North-South thoroughfares.
It took almost four hours even though Perra ignored the
little lanes and cul-de-sacs that would have made the
distance even longer. She moved at a ground-covering
rate, running with her regular boot-clomping bounce for a
block and a half then walking for the balance of the
block. She was an unusual jogger who drew quite a few
glances and comments but it was early enough that she
didn't meet up with the equivalent of the morning's three
stooges; her system allowed her to keep going far longer
than a normal jogger would have managed. She copied
Damien's actions and turned on a garden tap every now and
then to get some water; she only got one objection but
she simply ignored it with some puzzlement. Private
ownership, other than of a fresh kill, wasn't a wolfish
trait.
A block of warehouses and then a linear park divided the
suburbs from the city and Perra decided to head back to
her starting point and continue in the other direction.
The direct route back was far quicker.
Perra's zigzags took her past the scene of her "crime"
and she walked rather than ran so she could see what was
happening there. A crowd, much smaller than in the
morning, had gathered ghoul-like at the mere suggestion
of a murder site and an officer had been detailed to keep
them out for now. It made no sense to Perra and the
person walking in the outlandish costume didn't draw the
same attention that the same person running would have.
The officer watching the crowd did notice the woman pause
and tilt her head back but, other than wishing she had
come closer so he could have seen if she really was as
good looking as she seemed, he ignored her harmless
behaviour.
Perra had found a trace. Perhaps her captors HAD known
Damien. She sniffed the air. It was faint and she had
to roam around somewhat to find where it was strongest.
It was probably the longest five minutes of her life and
her bladder was twitching with the excitement; she had
found him! (She hoped.)
Perra broke out into a run. The spoor was only getting
stronger and any delay was too long after all she felt
she had gone through. If she went too far and lost it
she would only have to double back a little way but she
was confident in her abilities.
It helped that the young man had walked in a straight
line before turning the corner to walk past the infamous
house. Perra only lost Damien's scent when she had gone
past the entrance to his building. She immediately
turned back and carefully followed the trail inside.
There were only three floors but of course he had to live
on the top one. Perra barely noticed the climb. There
were six doors and she went to the one that he clearly
used and then came the dilemma. It was close to one in
the morning and Perra couldn't get the door to open; she
had experience of latches and door knobs but keys were
another matter.
"Damien." Perra called softly.
"Damien!" More urgently and louder when he didn't come.
"DAMIEN!!!" She finally heard a response from behind the
door.
It opened a little and Perra saw the familiar visage, or
one side at least around the edge.
"Damien!" The joy in her voice was obvious to Damien
regardless of who she was or what she was doing there in
the middle of the night. She was young enough that she
didn't seem threatening and her outfit looked familiar
enough. Was she someone from the estate? Was there a
problem? Or was she a stalker he hadn't been aware of?
He couldn't think of anyone like her that he had noticed.
"Yes?"
"Damien!" The girl had calmed down at least. He wasn't
about to get thrown out for causing a disturbance while
still on probation with his landlady. He hoped.
"Wait." That was a word Perra knew and she obediently
waited while the door closed and the chain was removed.
When Damien swung it open with the words "Who are you and
what do you want" on his lips he was not expecting to be
knocked back into the room by the attractive young woman
who threw her arms around him and began licking his neck
and face.
Any pleasure faded when he managed to get his hands on
her shoulders to push her away so he could see her
properly. Her face was still a little bloody, as was a
sleeve and her collar where the fabric had wiped the
fresh blood from her neck the previous morning. Her hair
looked a fright and she was also a little high! Had his
eyes been functional when he first went to the door he
would have thought twice about opening it. Now he asked
the question that had been aborted.
"Who are you?"
"Perra."
"Perra? I'm sorry, the only Perra I know is a wolf."
"Is me. I am Perra. I am wolf. I am your wolf. Your
Perra."
Damien was seriously worried now. This girl must have
been at the estate without his knowledge and when he had
been dismissed must have heard about the role Perra
played. Was she just some psycho who had a crush on him?
If so she had done well to find him; he hadn't contacted
anyone at the estate since his dismissal and he doubted
that the person who had interviewed him would have given
his details out to the girl before him.
Damien thought again. "No but he would be very likely to
pass them on to someone as powerful as my former
employer. This girl must have found out from him. Damn.
They're just as likely to come looking for her and I'll
be in even more shit!"
Still, even in her bedraggled state, she was something to
look at. Damien decided it was a pity she hadn't made
contact with him while he still worked there; some of the
nights had been rather lonely.
"Come over here and have a seat." He led Perra to a
couch and got her to sit. "Are you thirsty?"
Perra had a sense of d‚j… vu. The last time she had sat
in a sofa someone else had given her an unpleasant drink.
She trusted Damien however. "Yes Damien"
"What would you like?"
"Water, Damien"
"Okay. I'll be back."
That was another sentence she understood and every time
Damien had said it in the past he had spoken the truth.
Perra relaxed.
Damien closed the door and went to the kitchen, returning
with a glass of water and his cell phone. He found the
girl had discarded her work boots and was spread over the
sofa, trying to find an accustomed position that was
comfortable with the awkward limbs she now had.
"Here you are. I just have to make a call."
Perra sat up again and took the glass. She tilted it
slightly so the water was closer to the edge and lapped
at the surface. Damien grimaced as he turned away and
pressed the familiar digits into the phone.
"Hi Damien here. Yeah, sorry it's so late Doug. No I
found a place and I think I have another job lined up.
Not as glamorous that's for sure. Listen, the reason I
called. Has there been anyone from the estate reported
missing? A teenage girl for instance? No? No, I just
met someone I thought might have been from there. I
don't really have any reason to think she is it was just
a funny feeling. What! Really? I can't believe it.
Maybe he's just lost it in the enclosure - it's a big
area after all - or maybe one of the others killed it. I
lost one of the hyena's that way once, one of the old
ones who got too weak. Okay then. Thanks and sorry
again about bothering you."
Damien pressed the lock button and put the phone down.
If Miss Crazy had only been reported missing he could
have expected her to have been responsible for a missing
animal. But Doug only knew the count of the wolves had
come up one short. There was no suggestion that it was
Perra and the new keeper probably couldn't distinguish
between them anyway.
That still left him with a crazy, but most attractive,
young woman in his apartment. The woman was looking a
little distressed. Was she upset he had been asking
about her?
"What's wrong?"
"Need quick piss." She recalled Damien's comment that he
was "... only going to have a quick piss and I'll be
right back." It had been accompanied by a clear smell of
urination when he had returned and Perra had learned a
new phrase.
"Oh. Sorry. It's this way." Damien took her hand and
helped her from the sofa and then led the way to the
bathroom. Shower over the tub behind a cheap green
plastic curtain (with white seaweed and sea horses for
some reason) and the toilet down one end of the room,
hidden from casual view behind the door when it was open.
He turned on the light and ushered her inside. "I'll be
out in the lounge. You might want to wash up as well."
He closed the door and walked away wondering who he
should call. Something bothered him though. The girl's
strange eyes certainly reminded him of a wolf's, and her
hair had the same quality and shade of his favourite. He
wished her story could only be true.
---
Perra had ignored the strange seat at the end of the
bath. In fact none of the features, other than the taps,
were at all familiar. She had an urgency that would not
have worried her in the enclosure, she would simply have
squatted wherever was most appropriate. She couldn't
understand why Damien had closed her in here, he had seen
her piss and shit on many occasions without drawing
attention to it.
She stripped off the coveralls, finally feeling free of
the enclosing fabric, and threw them over the handy
toilet seat before squatting on the tiled floor. She
noticed the circular drain in the centre of the greyish
tiles; it reminded her of the sluice channel at the zoo
and the smell told her that wastes drained there so she
moved reasonably close and a good part of the stream of
urine went down it. The rest puddled on the tiles
between her arched feet.
"Oh that felt good." Perra must have held her bladder
closed for almost two minutes - a record for her. She
had NEVER needed to hold on for that long before!
"What was it Damien said? Wash up?"
She had watched him clean up at the trough outside the
store room so the concept wasn't foreign though it wasn't
something she had done herself, at least as the humans
did.
She stepped to the basin and noticed the other female
naked there before her. He lips automatically drew back
in a challenge and the human bitch did the same. "Who is
she? Why is she here with my Damien?"
Perra didn't know how to react - friend or foe, flight or
fight. Her heart was pounding just in case. She needed
assistance.
"Damien!"
She heard his feet hurrying in response to her urgent
call. There was a tapping against the door.
"Is everything okay?"
"Not okay! Who is she?"
Perra turned back from the door to catch the other woman
sneaking a look that way too.
"She? Look I'm coming in, okay?"
"Okay."
The other woman mouthed the same response but Perra heard
only her own words.
"What the?" Damien opened the door to find the girl
naked staring at the mirror with a familiar rictus on her
face. The scent of fresh urine was noticeable even to
his poor nose and he looked down at the mess on the
floor.
"At least she hadn't needed to shit", he thought.
None of that mattered when she turned towards him. The
rest could all have been strange coincidences and a
warped mind but when Damien's eyes jumped down level
after level of exposed breasts he began to wonder if it
wasn't his mind that was warped.
He seriously considered her physical structure; perhaps
that was why she thought herself a wolf. He had heard of
supernumerary nipples but never actual breasts. He
wouldn't put it past his former employer to have
"collected" some human oddities.
Damien grew angry when he realised it would have also
amused him to have told her she was a wolf and given her
the name of one of his other pets. Had she been kept
isolated? Was that why her speech was hard to follow at
times and her social skills most inadequate. Should he
call the Police or would THEY be in his employ too? He
might only be sending the girl back into a life of
misery.
"Who is she?" Perra repeated, breaking into his reverie
as she stabbed her finger at the mirror.
Damien looked at the reflection.
"It's only you." He came up to stand beside her,
avoiding the puddle, and a man looking just like him
moved to stand beside the other woman.
"Look" he said and began to wave his hand about. His
double did the same.
"Put your hand here." Damien took Perra's warm hand in
his and stretched it over the basin to touch the cold
glass surface.
Perra had been wary when the other girl put her hand out
as well but when she found it was a cold hard surface she
was touching and not someone's warm soft fingers she
started to understand a little.
"Like in water?"
"Yes" said Damien, "like looking into your reflection in
the water. It is you." He pointed at her and then at
her reflection and Perra noticeably calmed, breaking out
into a most human smile.
"And now I think we should clean you up. But first..."
Damien got a plastic jug that had come with the bathroom
and part filled it with water.
"Excuse me." He pulled Perra over to one side and washed
the remaining piss down the drain.
"Oh!" she said. "Wash ground after piss. Okay."
Perra was willing to learn the right way to behave as a
human. Damien wasn't quite ready to give her all THOSE
lessons. He still didn't know what to make of her.
He had to admit that she was beautiful behind the grubby
face, and body now he could see it. The extra breasts
were simply unbelievable to see and his mouth watered
with a Pavlovian response that had nothing to do with
ringing bells.
Damien considered his options. She wasn't concerned with
her own nudity before him and she really DID need more
than just a face washer.
"How about I run you a bath?"
That confused her. Hadn't she done enough running?
Where did Damien want to run? Did he want her to run
with him? And what was a bath? It showed on her face.
"I'll put water in the bath", he patted the side, "so you
can wash. Okay?"
If Damien said so, Perra would do it. "Okay"
She watched with interest as he put a plug into the round
hole, it's redness contrasting against the shiny white
enamel of the bath and it's rubber smell noticeable
through the mingled scents when she focussed on it.
Damien let the water rise, testing the temperature
occasionally.
"There, I think that should be okay. Do you want me to
leave you alone?"
"Alone! Not effin likely." Perra used the expletive
just as Damien had used it in front of her. She did not
want to be alone after taking all this trouble to find
her Damien.
Damien was shocked, not by the language but by the force
of the girl's emotion. She quite clearly wanted his
company and he just wondered what he was getting himself
into.
"Okay. Why don't you just pop into the tub then. Er,
sit in the bath please." He wondered why she could
understand some sentences and then seemed totally
bewildered by others. He watched as she climbed in,
gingerly testing the water, before turning to get both
soap and flannel. Damien was aware of the erection in
his shorts, hidden only by his robe, and he hoped it
subsided before the girl noticed.
His interest changed from prurience to concern when he
got a clear view of the dark bruise and the wound on her
arm.
"What happened here?"
He pointed and Perra looked. She couldn't remember the
work Al had used - it had only been said once and she had
been rather involved in other matters at the time.
"Was not knife."
Perra had not even associated the bang with the weapon.
Her description wasn't helpful and she couldn't add
anything extra. Damien wasn't familiar with gunshot
wounds either. She could have been skewered with
something round; perhaps a point on top of a fence. It
LOOKED clean and wasn't bleeding. If she had been shot
it must have been a small calibre bullet as it had passed
right through without chewing things up. Regardless of
the cause, if Perra had suffered any serious damage
Damien was sure she would be doing more than holding that
arm still by her side most of the time.
Unless he planned on hauling her to the nearest hospital
it was going to be better to ignore it for now. After
all there was the same likelihood that anyone important
there would be under the thumb of the "benefactor"
(Damien sneered at the label now) as the Police. It was
easy to become paranoid and start seeing conspiracies
once you started.
He took a deep breath and decided to return to more
mundane matters. Damien extended his hand.
"Here you are." Once again the girl seemed ignorant of
the purpose of the two items, sniffing them and almost
about to bite the soap before Damien gently stopped her.
"Would you like me to wash you?" "Perhaps at least start
her off so she can take over", he added to himself.
Perra relinquished them and Damien soaped up the flannel
then carefully wiped it over the girl's grubby chin and
cheek.
He did her chest, where the blood had crusted, and her
back, and then got her to raise her arms one at a time
while he washed the sweat from her armpits. Then he
chickened out. It would be bad enough soaping and then
rinsing ONE pair of firm young breasts but if he had to
work his way through eight perfectly formed, though
shallow, mounds he would not be able to control his own
throbbing protrusion.
Perra had appeared in the middle of the night looking
rather abandoned. Damien decided to try to avoid a
confrontation he wasn't yet ready for.
"Are you hungry? Perhaps I can get you something to eat
while you finish off?"
He had looked at her hair and decided it could get by
with just a brush for now. If he DID need to call in the
Police a clean body might not be worth commenting about
but wet hair might raise some questions that may be
harder to answer.
"What would you like?"
"Goat or sheep is okay. Anything."
"Hmm. I don't think I have any goat or sheep so it might
have to be anything. I'll leave the door open so call me
when you're ready to get out."
Shaking his head at the girl's insistence in staying in a
character he was half convinced was real, Damien took a
detour into his bedroom to get an oversize t-shirt he
sometimes sat around in during the evenings when he
wasn't comfortable being naked and yet didn't want to get
dressed again. The overalls looked like they needed a
wash so she might as well wear his clothes for now.
He threw it over a chair and raided the refrigerator.
Perra called as he was still getting the ingredients
assembled and he took the "nightgown" into the bathroom.
Once again, having been helped out of the bath, Perra
watched closely as her Damien pulled out the plug and the
now soapy water spiralled away.
Damien used his own towel to dry his guest, willing this
time to pat down each mammary in addition to drying her
pert behind and each pale thigh. Like Al before him he
observed the fine coating of straight grey-black hair
over her pubes as he worked on her knees and calves.
Perra could scent his growing arousal and smiled as she
looked down on his head.
He WAS her Damien. She would be HIS Perra.
Perra accepted the garment; it was certainly softer than
the discarded overalls and the carpet in the lounge was
much nicer underfoot than having to wear those heavy
boots.
As he stood looking at her, and the way the t-shirt
rippled all the way down her front Perra stepped closer
and once again licked his cheek. She inhaled his
maleness and noticed his shivered response. Why then did
he back away?
"Come on. Let's get you some food. When did you last
eat?"
Perra thought back. She had no concept of hours though
she recognised the short time period of "just be a
minute". She did understand the parts of the day though.
"Last night." Gabe's member hadn't been all that
nourishing and Al's throat had been gristly. Perra had
spent a lot of time and energy tracking Damien down and
she WAS hungry.
"Bacon and eggs on toast okay?" It was simple and quick
and not usually objectionable.
"I don't know. What is bacon-and-eggs-on-toast?"
The more Perra spoke the easier it was for Damien to
understand her speech. She didn't seem quite as
incapacitated as he had first suspected but then she
would come out with a comment like that. He wondered
once again what the girl's story really was.
"This is bacon, these are eggs, and this will become
toast." He held up each item in turn.
Perra wasn't interested in the toast. The eggs were
unfamiliar but smelt somehow okay. She took the bacon
and peeled back the plastic. It was just like the
overalls she had worn.
"Clothes for food!" she thought with amusement.
She bent her head over the package and sniffed audibly.
It seemed okay though the animal must have been terribly
unfit; it was full of fat. Before Damien could stop her
Perra had taken a bite of the raw stack of rashers.
Or at least she had tried to. Her human jaws could not
slice through the tough rind and she had to pull the meat
off of the string-like strands. It was saltier than she
had expected and she chewed quickly. Swallowing she
turned to Damien.
"More water Damien."
"Holy cow! You're supposed to cook it first."
He put her glass under the tap and half-filled it again.
"Here you are. Let me have that, I think you might
prefer how I make it."
Perra watched as Damien separated the rashers and dropped
them into a hot frying pan. A couple of minutes later he
cracked the eggs and dropped them into the grease that
had been released from the bacon. Perra had to admit the
smells that were issuing from Damien's cooking were
enticing.
A pop behind her had her turning quickly to face the
unexpected danger. Damien looked up to see the snarl
disappearing from his guest's face as she realised it was
the toaster.
"Careful!" Perra had been reaching out her hand.
"It is hot, see." He carefully held her hand above the
toaster. Perra drew it back quickly then watched as
Damien lifted out the two slices of toast and dropped
them onto a plate before waving his hands about.
"Ouch. I guess I'm the one who should be careful."
Perra took his hand in hers and ran her tongue over the
tips of his fingers. Though she hadn't intended it that
way Damien found her action highly erotic.
"Er. Thanks. Have a seat at the table and I'll dish
this up."
Perra followed enough of his direction to understand what
SHE was supposed to do though she didn't understand what
Damien had in mind.
Sitting in the chair was not dissimilar to sitting on the
couch; the padding on her rump made up for the lack of
padding on the seat. Perra was used to sitting, or
rather lying, on more uncomfortable sites though and made
no complaint.
She was not prepared for the plate of hot food placed
before her however. The cutlery that Damien added either
side was even more confusing. One item looked like a
knife but the blade was small and rounded.
Perra bent to eat the food directly from the plate but
Damien, watching for such behaviour, stopped her.
"Here. Like this."
He took the knife and fork and cut through egg bacon and
toast, skewering a little of each on the fork. He held
it up to Perra's mouth.
"Don't bite down too hard. Just pull the food off and
eat it."
Perra opened her mouth and let her teeth scrape lightly
over the tines. Oh it did taste nicer than the salty
bacon.
"It is good Damien."
"You try now."
Perra took the utensils and tried to copy Damien.
"Oops!" Damien rescued the scraps that had shot off the
side of the plate, returning them for the girl to place
on the end of her fork. His smile was encouraging rather
than expressing ridicule and Perra tried harder to please
him.
Soon she was managing with infrequent mishaps. Damien
left her to get a coffee for himself, Perra keeping to
her water. He sat again in time to show her how to use
the last fragments of the bread to mop up any yolk or
grease on the plate then took her hand so he could get to
the bottom of her appearance at his door.
"You say your name is Perra. So, Perra, how about you
tell me where you came from and how you got here."
"Come from Home. You not there any more and I miss you.
My family not want me and try to kill me so I open gate
and go. Look for you and find smell. Follow here. Now
my Damien."
"Who are your family, Perra?"
"Damien. No more family. Just Damien. I your Perra."
"And you are a wolf?"
"Wolf yes no. Can be wolf. You want wolf?"
Damien thought. It was a crazy story but one that the
evidence seemed to support. HE certainly had missed the
gentle she-wolf that had befriended him; it was probable
that she felt the same. But how?!
"I think it might be necessary. Er, yes. Can you show
me the wolf?"
"Wolf then this girl?" Perra pointed to herself.
"Okay. Yes, back to this girl. Can you do that?"
Damien wondered if Perra planned a variation of the old
"Quickest Draw in the West" joke - Want to see it again?
Perra didn't answer. Damien simply found the hand in his
changing to a furry paw. It was a smooth change over
only a couple of seconds and then it was his old friend
sitting on the chair with her paws on the table. She
started to slide off since she no longer had buttocks to
support her. Damien released her paw and steadied her
torso instead. She was suddenly changing back and Damien
was conscious of his hand on one of her breasts while the
other was on her back.
"Wolf okay? Girl okay?"
Damien grinned. It was absolutely unbelievable. He let
go of her and sat back in his chair.
"Yes Perra. Both okay."
He had no idea how it had happened or why it had
happened; whether it was something new or something she,
or perhaps just others, had been able to do for a long
while. And, if he was now to believe everything she had
said earlier, Perra had apparently decided that they
represented a new pack - a very small one; comprised of
him and an incredibly attractive, in both forms, young
"lady".
Damien wasn't about to send her away, or to take her back
to a pack that wouldn't accept her, presumably due to her
unusual (he wouldn't say unnatural) abilities. He
certainly couldn't see himself turning up back at the
estate with her. Even if they believed him (and he still
wasn't sure whether or not they already knew of her
abilities), they would certainly treat her as a curiosity
rather than as a person; and he would probably NOT be
allowed to see her.
No. His former employer might have owned a wolf. Perra
was not a possession if she was a girl. He felt like the
stereotypical little boy who had been followed home by a
stray - "Can I keep her?" - but had he adopted her or she
him; and what were the implications. One thing he could
be sure of, life was not going to be dull.
As he stacked the dishes in the sink (they could wait
until morning) Damien couldn't help but wonder how calmly
he was taking the wondrous revelation. It wasn't that he
didn't appreciate the magnitude of Perra's situation it
was just that he could see how badly things could turn
out for her should her story become public. For himself
the danger was far less and he didn't even think of what
could happen there.
"I'm sorry but it's almost three and I think I'm
suffering from the let down after all tonight's
excitement. I hope I don't offend you but I need some
sleep."
Perra could appreciate that. She was tired from her
unusual exercise and was quite happy to snuggle down with
her Damien.
"Perra sleep too."
That made Damien consider the nature of his apartment.
It had come with a double bed but otherwise really only
consisted of the one bedroom, the kitchen, bathroom and
lounge. He didn't even have the makings for another bed
on the couch which wasn't really long enough to sleep on
comfortably. Oh well, the gracious host sleeping on the
couch in the movies wasn't likely in reality anyway.
"Okay then, let's both get some shut eye."
Perra thought that term was most appropriate; they would
be shutting their eyes wouldn't they. She added it to
her growing vocabulary.
"Just be a minute." She headed into the dark bathroom.
"Wait!" Damien's call halted her just before she
squatted over the drain. "Er, we do things a little
differently." THIS was getting embarrassing.
He had to keep telling himself that the attractive young
girl in front of him had the upbringing of a wolf; she,
unlike himself, was not as squeamish about natural bodily
functions.
Damien demonstrated firstly how to turn the light on and
off and then how the lid on the toilet lifted. He turned
Perra around, thankful that she was only wearing the
large t-shirt, and sat her down, hoisting the back of the
garment up as she descended onto the white plastic ring.
"NOW you can go."
Perra, puzzled, began to stand. Where was she supposed
to go TO?
"Sorry. No." Damien pushed on her shoulders to keep her
seated. "Don't squat there", he pointed at the drain.
"Piss in here instead."
She knew "piss"; she had used the term earlier. What
about "shit"?
"Do you understand 'shit'? We shit in here too. Do you
need to shit?"
Damien should have realised that she would have tried
earlier if she had. Animals didn't hold on like humans,
at most moving away from where they lived or ate, or
perhaps going far enough to stop predators finding where
they lived. If she was going to live as a human that
would have to change.
Perra shook her head as Damien heard the stream of piss
hitting the water. She couldn't understand why his
cheeks reddened.
She finished and stood, realising that her body was damp.
It wasn't a problem she had encountered in her other
form. Fortunately Damien had a younger sister and,
following a show and tell session when they had both been
much, much younger, he did understand what girls did
after they had been. He pulled of five or six sheets of
paper and folded them into a loose wad.
"Wipe yourself dry", he demonstrated on her arm and then
pointed between her legs. "Now drop it in there, and we
press this button."
Perra watched with interest as the water swept the paper
away. Damien closed the lid and led her over to the
basin to wash her hands. It was just like having to deal
with his little nephew; like Perra, HE didn't understand
why the adults wanted him to do things like wash all the
time.
Damien ignored teeth brushing. If Perra hadn't up until
then, one more day wouldn't matter and it wasn't as if
she had doggy breath. He kept telling himself he would
have to stop thinking that way! He had certainly
respected the wolves in his care; they were better than
many humans.
He indicated to Perra that she should turn off the light
as he didn't need the practise and then he led her by the
hand to his bedroom.
Damien was attracted to Perra and her unusual nature did
not alter his feelings. He was not interested in carnal
activities tonight though; the night had been full of
unexpected and very unusual incidents and he was not yet
sure of what Perra felt for him. Was he to be brother,
friend or lover? It could wait until morning, only a few
hours away.
He climbed in next to Perra and she snuggled against him,
pleased how their human bodies fitted together. After
the difficulties in finding him she was happy that he had
welcomed her; until then she hadn't thought about what
she would do if he hadn't. That all was well came as a
relief that comforted her as they drifted off together.
---
Damien was used to sleeping throughout the night, Perra
wasn't. Two hours after they had lain down together she
was alert again.
She was feeling very warm towards Damien. He had always
been friendly towards her and now she was like him, she
found him attractive as a mate rather than just a friend.
She knew what wolves would have done but then it would
have been a male response to the pheromones issuing from
a bitch in heat. Perra wasn't in heat yet still found
she was eager for sex. Since that had been her nature
all along she didn't find it unusual but she was
confused. It was as though she had been a schoolgirl
hearing all sorts of erroneous stories and then finding
out things didn't work the way she expected.
Perra didn't know what to do. Raising her tail to give
Damien access to her presented hindquarters wasn't going
to work, especially since she hadn't got a tail at the
moment. She had to think what humans might do.
Unfortunately, or perhaps fortuitously, Perra had had one
encounter to give her some clues. She had found how much
more relevant her sense of touch was with these strange
replacements to her paws. Useless for running or digging
they were so much more useful in holding or touching and
Perra found her way up the loose leg of the shorts Damien
had worn to bed. She could feel the appendage between
Damien's legs firming as she gently felt its shape.
Love is not an emotion that one would normally attribute
to a pair of wolves but few would doubt its expression
between dog and owner. That tended to be a non-carnal
love of fellow pack members with the dog acknowledging
the human as top dog in the pack.
Perra's unusual changes meant she was able to experience,
or rather to recognise and appreciate that she did
experience, a love much closer to the human romantic
ideal. She loved Damien and she wanted to show him how
much. Gabe had sought her mouth, to his ultimate regret;
now Perra sought Damien with hers.
She turned in the bed and knelt beside his head so she
could rest her face in his crotch, lapping at the bald
head that poked from the scrunched up pants leg.
It twitched and she smiled, a very human smile rather
than the aggressive baring of fangs that would have been
the interpretation of a similar gesture in wolf form.
Perra's human lips were better suited to sliding along
the pole, her tongue softer against the surface. Damien
stirred, his sleep being disturbed by erotic dreams that
mimicked his reality.
Perra found it natural to roll her tongue back and forth,
suckling on the massive teat as though she was still a
pup at her mother's side and when, unexpectedly, there
was an explosive release in her mouth. She gulped the
emission, literally wolfing it down, as Damien finally
registered it had not just been a dream.
"Wha? Huh? P'ra?"
Damien was conscious of the bare leg beside his cheek as
he realised Perra was still licking on his penis. It was
getting hard to take; ticklish rather than erotic. He
turned and kissed the soft thigh and then ran his tongue
over the warm flesh. Perra realised he was awake and
crawled up over him to say her hellos.
There was just enough light for them to see each other's
smiling faces.
"Good morning Perra. That was nice."
"Good morning Damien." She licked his jaw line.
"We have another way of doing that you might like." He
took Perra's jaw in his own hand and brought her lips to
his.
Perra realised that lips were wonderful. She had never
expected that touching them together would feel so good.
She wanted more of it.
It took her only a little while to find out that a
variation in pressure could be equally interesting and
Damien found himself the willing object of Perra's
passionate attentions. He wrapped his arms around her,
sensitive of the multiple pressures against his abdomen;
he would have to investigate those remarkable breasts!
When Perra eased up Damien pressed his tongue between her
lips. The worm wriggling its way into her mouth amused
her and she laughed against HER Damien's lips. There was
no doubt in her mind now. Damien took the opportunity to
delve deeper and now his tongue was pressing against
Perra's. Her laughter ceased as she closed her mouth
against the fat intruder and pressed back.
She had learned a new trick and was soon busily
investigating Damien's mouth. They fought back and
forth, both getting worked up. All of a sudden Perra
pushed herself off of Damien.
"What's wrong?" he began but then he noticed the pale
orbs of her ass cheeks as she turned away from him and
bent over the covers. She was offering herself in the
only way she knew as "normal".
Damien had his lover's lupine nature brought dramatically
before him, literally thrust in his face. Did her animal
nature matter? Did it matter to HIM?
It wasn't lust that made him decide, though he was quite
aware that he did lust for her. It wasn't quite love, in
terms of "must have you ever after" - it was too soon for
that regardless of stories of soul mates and love at
first sight. It was a willingness to accept Perra's
offer of herself and a recognition of her own need for
fulfilment and an understanding that, should he not be
able to make a lasting commitment he was nevertheless
taking on a serious responsibility for the girl.
Damien moved behind the girl, running his hand over her
buttock, causing her to shiver at his touch. His thumb
pressed softly into the crease between puffed lips.
There could be no doubt of her arousal, the moist
evidence showed that. He eased his thumb deeper into the
furrow and, with minimal manipulation, found the warm
channel. There was no difficulty in pressing it deeper
though Perra did wince as it brushed an area not yet
healed. It felt good and she had no fear that her Damien
would cause the lancing pain that the late and unlamented
Al had unwittingly inflicted.
Damien pulled out his thumb and held it to his nose. He
may not have been able to pick up the subtleties that a
wolf could but the juices smelled absolutely wonderful to
him.
Damien moved behind Perra and positioned the head of his
prick where his thumb had been. It had been a long time
since he had fucked someone and longer still since he had
felt as close to a lover. He was fitted in place and
began a slow, deliciously excruciating, slide into his
one and only wolf-girl. Perra pressed back as she felt
him filling her, so wonderfully smooth an entrance she
could not breathe in anticipation of each tiny movement.
"No!" He was pulling out. That COULDN'T be it; not over
yet surely?. It felt TOO good. Perra's hips pressed
back as she tried to stop the loss of the hard prick from
inside her. Damien's hands on her hips stopped her
progress. What was wrong? Didn't he WANT to mate with
her? Was it because she wasn't in season?
If he hadn't been trying to take things as easily as he
had Perra might have felt his thrust back into her before
she could have started doubting him. Instead the
quelling of her doubts made the joy of the next slow
thrust even greater.
Now when he pulled back she cooperated and noticed his
not-so-subtle pressure on her hips. When his hands
pulled back again she rocked her body with them and his
thrust was faster, more forceful. THAT was what she
needed!
Though she had never had the weight of another wolf
resting on her back with his paws over her shoulders and
his breath in her ear, the lack of such sensations seemed
to suggest something was missing. Since it was her first
true fuck she was too bound up in new sensations to
register it until later. For now she simple became a
cylinder for Damien's piston. There was no governor on
their engine and both worked harder and harder until
flesh was slapping against flesh. They would have the
opportunity to learn slow and gently lovemaking but this
time it was all urgency and a need for release NOW!
Damien's second release came just before sunrise and woke
the neighbours. It wasn't really Perra's fault; she had
no reason to suppress her joy and it was only unfortunate
that her need to howl caused the transformation that
allowed her to do so.
The guttural cry, repeated loudly, turned into a
satisfied whine as Perra realised it was over. Damien
found himself holding her furry flanks with his prick
pressed into an animal's rear. He could only hope no-one
broke his door down right at this moment.
"I swear officer she WAS a girl!" He could just see it.
One thing he found was that, as a wolf, Perra was much
tighter. She also seemed rather silly wearing his
t-shirt. He gave a short laugh as he was squeezed from
the much warmer vagina. An unbelievable ending to an
unbelievable night.
It wasn't over. Perra turned and licked his face. Not
unusual. But then she pressed her muzzle against his
mouth and her long canine tongue slid between his lips
before he could register. It was unexpected and he quite
understandably moved away. Then he recalled the story
that a dog's mouth is naturally clean and hoped both that
the story was correct and that it applied to wolves as
well. Perra's tongue certainly wasn't tainted and it
wasn't as if she had the stringy slobber of a hound dog
(which wasn't that different from his nephew now he
thought of it). He had paused for just a second and
reached up to take Perra's head between his hands. He
returned the kiss, caressing the long and raspy tongue
with his own.
Perra realised her muzzle didn't quite match her lover's
and once again transformed back, happy that she had at
least that much control over when she changed, and Damien
found himself kissing a very human and very happy Perra.
He fell back and pulled her on top of him. Perhaps they
could have another little nap in each other's arms and
then maybe repeat the performance before breakfast.
Damien wondered if Perra would enjoy other positions.
For ever after this one would be wolfy style for him.
*********************************************************